


Fulfill My Fantasies

by high_functioning_sociopath



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bearded Steve Rogers, Bisexual Tony Stark, Biting, Bottom Tony Stark, Desk Sex, Detective Steve Rogers, Gay Steve Rogers, Implied Age Difference, M/M, Office Sex, Older Man/Younger Man, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Steve Rogers, bright eyed tony, chubby Steve Rogers, detective Tony stark, jaded steve, little bit of praise kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23641345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/high_functioning_sociopath/pseuds/high_functioning_sociopath
Summary: Prompt: Old chubbyish, jaded detective Steve with puppy rooky Tony - and young, very adamant on his heterosexuality tony (mostly bc steve is FINE in his suits and tony realllyyyy doesn’t want to give him any ideas)“I’m not gay,” Tony says, and immediately winces because he’s about 99.9% sure that was not a proper response to whatever had been said, but his eyes had lingered on Detective Rogers’...everythingtoo long, and his mouth needed to make sure Rogers (and his own dick) didn’t get the wrong idea before his brain had been able to catch up.Rogers quirks an eyebrow, and Tony wants to die under his amused gaze. “Good to know. Fortunately, I don’t think you have to be gay to plan a drug bust or a lot of people would be out of a job.”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 26
Kudos: 242





	Fulfill My Fantasies

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to [bill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bill_Longbow/pseuds/Bill_Longbow) and [swiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swisstae) for the prompt and letting me run with it ~~and being super patient while it took me way too long to finish it~~! i hope it lives up to your expectations!
> 
> i originally had them using vaseline as lube, but [apathetic entity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApatheticEntity) pointed out that it has a numbing effect during sex, so i scratched that, haha. and a super big thanks to them for beta-ing! your comments were super helpful!
> 
> and thanks to [angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGold) for getting me back on track when i was being silly and lost my motivation by arguing with bigots on facebook. <3
> 
> (and i'm not sure why, but ao3 likes to add spaces between an italicized word and punctuation, so i had to go manually fix that, sorry if missed one!)

“I’m not gay,” Tony says, and immediately winces because he’s about 99.9% sure that was _not_ a proper response to whatever had been said, but his eyes had lingered on Detective Rogers’... _everything_ too long, and his mouth needed to make sure Rogers (and his own dick) didn’t get the wrong idea before his brain had been able to catch up.

Rogers quirks an eyebrow, and Tony wants to die under his amused gaze. “Good to know. Fortunately, I don’t think you have to be gay to plan a drug bust or a lot of people would be out of a job.”

Make that 99.9% a two hundred and call Tony’s mom; he’ll be dying of embarrassment before he breaks 30.

~

“I’m not gay,” Tony mumbles under his breath a few weeks later, cursing himself when Steve (he calls him Steve now, it’s a thing, don’t worry about it) snorts because damn it, no one was supposed to hear that. Perhaps a two-person stakeout in a quiet car wasn’t the best place to say things you didn’t want heard.

“Is this one of those ‘if I say it enough times, maybe it’ll be true’ situations?” Steve replies, and the teasing edge to his voice only makes Tony sink into the seat under him a little more, grumbling incomprehensibly and steadfastly ignoring the warmth on his cheeks. “Well, I am,” Steve continues, making Tony’s head whip toward him. The older detective just smirks knowingly. “Gay, that is. In case it helps put you at ease.”

Tony doesn’t say anything else on the topic, but he doesn’t think he’s imagining the closed car getting a little warmer as they continue watching for their perps.

~

Steve lets out a sound Tony doesn’t have enough time to comprehend before pulling the brunet to him and seizing his lips with his own, undeterred by the gasp of surprise before it melts into hums of pleasure. He holds Tony close with one hand on his waist and the other behind his head, squeezing just a little tighter when Tony’s find their own way to Steve’s shoulder, pulling them flush together from their lips to their legs as they kiss. Tony practically melts against the larger, softer body holding him.

It had been months of working together, the tension and confusion of his near-constant _want_ threatening to kill Tony, and it’s much, much too soon when Steve pulls away and clears his throat, scratching near his ear a little awkwardly. “Sorry,” he says, and Tony doesn’t get a chance to question it before he continues, “I should have asked, but they were about to spot us. People are uncomfortable with PDA, so they look away quickly, it was the fastest, safest bet.”

The disappointment curls tight in Tony’s stomach, but he pushes it away with a shrug. “Makes sense,” he says, rolling his shoulders out. Steve twitches a vaguely worried smile at him.

“Not mad?” he asks.

“Nope,” Tony answers, “not mad.”

_But definitely a little gay,_ he decidedly does not say out loud.

~

Their breaths come in pants between them as Steve presses Tony against the concrete of the building behind him, licking into his mouth fervently, hands gripping his hips in a vice Tony has no care to break.

_“If there’s one thing you’ll learn on this job, it’s that no one is truly good,”_ Steve had said. _“Everyone has their price, it’s just not always money.”_

Tony had argued. Explosively. Red-faced and angry that someone like Steve could have so little hope in humanity, and giving example after example of people being good just for the sake of being _good_.

Apparently having faith in the good of people is a huge turn-on for a jaded detective like Steve Rogers, because the next thing Tony knew, he had the rough concrete of the alley wall scraping at his back as Steve took him apart with his mouth.

Now, only minutes later, he can feel the hard line of Steve’s erection pressing into his hip, and he gasps against his lips. He’s not used to being so much shorter than his hookups, and he had no idea how fucking _hot_ it is. He’s caged in, held in place by strong hands and a deceptively muscular body hidden beneath his chub, but the knowledge that all he has to do to make it stop is say so, push a little, and Steve will back off in an instant shifts it from panic-inducing to ‘I’ve never had a dick in me, but boy am I eager to try’ in no time.

(He’d given up on his denial after Steve kissed him; beauty is beauty, after all, and had instead spent the past who knows how many weeks enjoying his _yes homo_ fantasies rather than trying to ignore them.)

“Steve,” Tony gasps, and the man hums in acknowledgement as he trails his lips away from Tony’s to move down his cheek to his neck, trailing kissing along the way. His beard tingles Tony’s skin, causing a not unpleasant chill to run up his spine. “ _Steve_ ,” he presses, too kiss-drunk to actually stop, not enough blood left in his brain, but still constantly reminded of where they are by the rough assault of the building at his back. “This isn’t— _ah_ , the best place.”

He gets a sinking of teeth into the junction of his neck and shoulder for his troubles, forcing a whimper from his lips and cursing in his head when he feels Steve’s lips press against the spot soothingly before lifting into a smug smile. “Bastard,” Tony grumbles. “Cheater.”

“What was that about wanting to move?” Steve asks innocently and laughs when Tony lightly thumps his fist against the blond head. He gives another, gentler nibble before pulling away to look at him. Tony’s inhales sharply at just how _needy_ Steve looks, pupils blown, hair mussed, lips just a little redder than they were before — something no one else would notice, but Tony does, because Tony notices everything about Steve. “How about my place?” He offers.

Tony’s nod is quick and excited, and Steve grins and kisses him once more before grabbing his hand and tugging them back onto the main sidewalk and into his car, not a single shit given about the prominent bulges in their pants. Oh well, it’s dark, no one’s probably noticing anyway.

(And if they are, fucking _worth it_.)

Tony buckles himself in as Steve walks around to the driver’s side, and as soon as they pull away from the curb, Tony lets his hand slip onto Steve’s thigh and squeeze. Tony bites down on his bottom lip to suppress the pleased grin that wants to spread as Steve inhales sharply, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Tony…”

“What?” he says innocently, rubbing his hand back and forth across the inseam in short, slow movements. “I’m just following your lead from the alley, detective.”

“You weren’t driving,” Steve argues, flicking his eyes to his partner for a moment before licking his lips as he focuses intently on the road.

And, well, there can’t be a better place to learn how to tip a man over the edge than the passenger seat of a car, right?

With a mischievous grin, Tony pushes the seatbelt out of the way, tucking it behind him, leaving only the lap belt so he has room to maneuver himself lower and drape across the console. Not at all by coincidence, this lands his face at Steve’s crotch, where his dick looks to be almost painfully straining against his zipper.

“Tony, you— _Fuck,_ ” he hisses when Tony starts mouthing at the material. “Not gay, my ass,” he grumbles, fisting a hand into Tony’s hair to tug him off and push him back into his own seat, “get us into a goddamn accident.”

He doesn’t bother hiding his smugness as he puts his seatbelt back on properly. “I do have my own, you know; I know what they like.”

Steve catches his hand when it tries to sneak its way back onto his thigh. “If you want us to be in any shape to fuck, you’re gonna have to keep your hands to yourself before we crash.”

Tony sighs loudly and leans back into his own seat, grumbling, “Should make ‘able to drive while being jerked off’ a requirement to get your license.”

Lips twitching into a fond smile, Steve says nothing, and the next three or so minutes are silent until they park and Tony’s brows furrow. “You live at the precinct?”

Steve snorts, adjusting himself to hide his still-straining cock before getting out of the car while Tony scrambles to do the same. “I accidentally left my jacket here. It’s got my house keys in it. Only be a minute, and then trust me, I’ll put this to good use.” The last part is purred right in Tony’s ear as a hand squeezes his ass once before Steve strolls inside like he hasn’t a care in the world.

_God_ , that should _not_ be so hot.

Scrambling to follow while still trying to look as carefree and professional—and not absurdly horny—as his partner, Tony manages to fall in step with the blond, his heart nearly skipping a beat as Steve easily greets everyone he passes and is shown warm smiles and honest “take care”s in return. The station’s not full at this time, but it doesn’t mean anything. He’s popular, because of course he is. He may not believe in the good of humanity the way Tony does, but he’s kind anyway. There’s a reason for him being the cause of Tony’s Big Bisexual Awakening.

And it’s not just the realization that a little flannel would have him fulfilling every secret lumberjack fantasy Tony’s ever concocted.

(Okay, it’s a little bit the lumberjack thing. Tony’s only human.)

They make it into their office and Steve grabs his jacket with no hesitation, only pausing long enough to check that his keys are, in fact, in the pocket. It’s enough time for an idea to spark and Tony shuts and locks the door, proceeding to lean against it and nibble his bottom lip when Steve gives him a bemused look.

“I’m tired of waiting,” he says, pitching his voice low, and Steve blinks before one corner of his mouth twitches into a half smirk. Tony tries to up the ante by batting his eyelashes and tugging the collar of his shirt down with an index finger; it’s cheesy and see-through, but it _works_ , and Steve is on him again in milliseconds, crashing their lips together as he presses Tony into the door. The wood is much nicer on his back than the concrete was, not that he’s complaining.

The smoothness of the wood also allows for a much easier glide as Steve grasps the back of Tony’s thighs, pulling his legs up and around his own waist with a little jump from the brunet, who moans in delight as his partner holds him up with seemingly no effort.

“Quiet,” Steve orders, sinking his teeth into Tony’s bottom lip to punctuate his point before kissing it better. “Unless you want someone to catch us.”

“Kinky,” Tony breathes, and Steve huffs a laugh into his neck before biting down, eliciting a gasp from the younger. “God, you totally have a biting kink. How did I not see this coming, you’re so no-nonsense on the job, you probably learn shibari in your spare time.”

The constant stream of teeth and lips against his skin is almost enough to distract him from Steve’s lack of response. Almost.

“Holy shit,” Tony laughs, _fwap_ -ing at Steve’s forehead to push his head away, “you totally do!”

Steve’s pouting at the separation, but Tony doesn’t miss the glint in his eyes or the way he’s fighting his own facial muscles to not smile.

“That’s so fucking hot,” Tony hisses, pitching forward to connect their lips again in a messy clack of teeth, forceful enough that Steve loses balance and falls back a step, and the fact that he managed to stay standing only spurs Tony on more, tapping Steve’s hand to let go of his thighs and put him back on his feet. He reluctantly pulls away to hastily pop the button of his own pants and pointedly eyes Steve’s. “Off,” he orders when Steve doesn’t take the hint, too busy watching Tony fumble with his own.

Steve grins wickedly and makes quick work of his slacks and his boxer-briefs, and in moments they’re pressed close again, lips and tongues meeting in a heated dance while Steve presses Tony into the desk. They swallow each other’s moans when their cocks slide against each other, uncoordinated and missing the mark more often than not, but _so damn good_.

It’s easy to get lost in their messy rutting, flush against each other as Steve opens enough buttons on Tony’s shirt to slide his hands against his skin, gripping him tight enough to leave all too temporary hand-shaped marks.

When Steve’s lips leave Tony’s to trail down his neck, sucking and nibbling and weakening Tony at the knees, Tony takes the opportunity to choke out, “God, _fuck me already_.”

Steve lands a harder bite on Tony’s shoulder before soothing it with his lips and tongue. He leans over, bending Tony almost uncomfortably as he reaches past to grab his previously discarded jacket and pull out a few small packets of lube.

Tony raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve shrugs, unrepentant. “Never know when it’ll come in handy.”

“Sure,” Tony snorts.

“Do you want to worry about why I have this, or do you want me to put it to good use?” Steve growls, teasing and impatient.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Tony purrs obediently, letting out a surprised sound when Steve spins him around, and catches himself by slamming his hands on the desk. Lips find his neck again, and his half-undone shirt is falling off his shoulders, practically begging Steve to touch, taste, _take_.

Who is he to say no?

Hands squeeze at Tony’s ass and Steve massages the firm cheeks with a pleased hum. Tony puffs up proudly at the silent praise; he knows his ass is great, thank you very much, people don’t notice _nearly_ enough.

Soon enough, one hand moves to wrap around Tony’s torso, palming his chest to hold him in place, and a soft sound escapes Tony as a slick finger slips between his cheeks to rub teasing circles at his hole. “Steve…” he says breathlessly, and the man in question twists Tony’s head to awkwardly but heatedly capture his lips, distracting him as he presses inside, taking a good few seconds to reach the first knuckle before stopping.

“Good?” Steve asks against his lips, taking his quick nods as a go-ahead and fucking into him in short, slow, shallow thrusts, so gentle and careful that Tony’s barely aware of Steve deepening his entry until the tops of his knuckles are pressed against his ass. He breathes against it, letting his head fall back against Steve’s shoulder as the man gives a combination of a hum and a moan, capturing Tony’s ear in his teeth. “So good for me,” he praises softly after pressing a kiss to the spot, “taking my finger so well, so _tight_.”

Tony whimpers and gasps as the finger disappears enough to push back in, setting up an easy pace that has Tony’s breath coming in needy pants in minutes, helped along by the burst of pleasure that shoots up his spine every so often.

He knows basic anatomy well enough to know what’s causing it, which only leaves him frustrated that he’d never tried to play with his prostate before, because _fuck_ , has he been missing out.

Soon enough, Steve has a second finger joining in, stretching him with what feels like endless patience to Tony’s lust-addled brain. Once upon a time, he would have been embarrassed at the noises coming out of his mouth; soft keens and whimpered begs, panting for more, but the way Steve’s hips twitch against him in aborted movements, like he has to force himself to hold back from how much Tony is affecting him, only spurs him on.

By the time he’s three fingers in, the burn of the stretch mostly faded, the front of the desk is wet from how much his cock has leaked, a stray (and hopefully unimportant) paper decidedly ruined. Tony’s words come in short pants, “Come on, please, fuck, Steve, just do it, fuck me, _Steve_ —”

“Okay, okay, shit, shh.” The quick, breathless words give away how affected he is, leaving a bite on Tony’s shoulder as he carefully pulls his fingers out, to mark him or hold himself back, maybe both, Tony doesn’t care. He vaguely registers foil ripping behind him and that now-familiar hand slicking more lube at his hole, squeezing and slapping once at his ass on the way, before the blunt head of Steve’s cock is pressing against him, pushing in and out slowly in short, shallow movements, letting him adjust as he had with each finger. Steve swallows Tony’s gasp, the angle still awkward and his wrists starting to ache from holding himself up, but both of them much, much too hazy and invested to care.

When he bottoms out, Steve stills, and Tony moans softly as he hits his sensitive spots with his lips, gentle and loving as he traces his fingers along Tony’s torso. He’s just about to complain, tell him to fucking _move_ already, when Steve rolls his hips, barely leaving Tony’s body at all before he’s fully sheathed again, setting up a tantalizing rhythm that leaves Tony gasping at each hit.

Tony straightens enough to reach his arms back, slipping one hand in Steve’s hair and the other at his hip, pulling him impossibly closer, and Steve practically growls as he digs his teeth in Tony’s neck. His mouth is filled with fingers before he can cry out and alert the whole department, and he almost protests before he has a better idea, sucking the digits in, slipping his tongue around and between them, treating Steve like the tastiest candy he’s ever had until the fingers disappear.

“God, I knew you’d be amazing,” Steve hisses as he grabs Tony’s arms to push him forward onto the desk, following suit and covering his body with his own before the man can think about getting lonely — and Tony had already been greatly interested in his body, but now he’s especially grateful, because he can’t imagine a chest made of chiseled marble would feel nearly as nice. “But Jesus, daydreaming could never live up to _this_.”

“You think you’re living the dream— _ah, fuck!_ —” Steve pulls out halfway and Tony can barely notice the loss before he snaps his hips and buries himself in again, “—imagine being me right— _ngh_ —” another snap of his hips, “—now. _Fucking hell, if you stop I’ll destroy you_.”

Steve laughs against his skin, dragging his nails lightly against Tony’s side before grabbing at his hips, holding him in place as he picks up the pace, the drag of his cock hitting all the right places as he pounds into him, quick and sharp and deep, his face buried in Tony’s neck.

Every gasp, every whimper, every moan and plea gets answered with a bite, soothed with a kiss, and fuck it, if he ends this with his own biting kink he’ll just have to stick with the guy who gave it to him.

“Perfect,” Steve grunts, spreading Tony’s cheeks to get himself deeper and stuffing Tony’s mouth again when he moans on the wrong end of too loud, “so good for me, Tony, god, so fucking perfect.”

Tony’s too uncoordinated now to properly suck at his fingers, too lost in the sound on skin on skin, of teeth at his shoulder, of _fuck, more, good, yes_ , but he tries, and Steve hisses. With less effort than it should take, he pulls Tony back up to standing, holding him flush against himself with one hand on his chest as the other slips around his neglected cock, letting out a pleased sound when Tony bucks into his grip.

“I’m gonna come,” he promises, nibbling at Tony’s ear and feeling the shudder of his body against his own, “and then I’m gonna make you come. It’ll be messy, and it’ll be goddamned perfect.” He punctuates his last word with a particularly hard thrust, and takes the quick, incoherent babble as approval, chasing his orgasm with quick fucks of his hips, squeezing the base of Tony’s cock to stave off his and smirking into his hair when Tony whines.

It’s less than a dozen thrusts before he’s filling the condom with a grunt, letting Tony practically wring his climax out of him, and doesn’t give himself more than a moment to breathe before loosening his grip and running quick strokes along Tony’s length. He comes with Steve’s teeth on his pulse and a moan on his lips, spilling onto the desk without a thought before relaxing against the larger man with a sharp exhale.

Steve hums pleasantly, trailing kisses along Tony’s shoulder as he slowly pulls out and deals with the condom, and the brunet turns in his grip to give him a warm, sated smile.

“That was great,” he comments, and Steve hums again.

“Quite a mess though,” he says almost absently, and Tony follows with his eyes as Steve drags two fingers through the puddle on the desk, holding them up to Tony’s face. “Wonder what we should do about that.”

Tony follows his thoughts process almost too easily, and his mouth is already open when Steve moves and slips his fingers past his lips. Tony swirls his tongue around the digits again; it’s not his kink, but the way Steve’s staring, eyes boring into him like if refractory periods weren’t a thing they’d already be in round two? He could do this all day.

When it’s all gone, Tony pulls off and licks his lips, and Steve kisses him again, holding him close in a tight grip.

“I think we said something about dinner,” Steve says on a breath when they pull apart again. Tony smiles.

“Dinner sounds great.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i hope y'all liked it as much as i did!! <3


End file.
